


Why is love so disastrous?

by Silvermist



Category: Frank Iero - Fandom, Gerard Way - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, M/M, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvermist/pseuds/Silvermist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Το Maria, my friend and guide through this whole process. We met in a hard time for both of us, but we'll make it through. Thank you, for everything.</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Το Maria, my friend and guide through this whole process. We met in a hard time for both of us, but we'll make it through. Thank you, for everything.

Frank's POV

"what do you mean 'I'm leaving'"? I could not stop starring at the bag dropped by her feet. I woke up just a minute ago from the noise of doors swinging shut and drawers slamming, to find her packing things. "Jamia? Answer me!" 

"What part of the sentence did you not get, huh Frank?" Anger was oozing from her pores. "I cannot do this anymore!" She shot her hands up. " I tried Frank, I really tried. I was there for 10 long years. I tried to be what you wanted, I tried to support you in everything you did, tried to make you love me. But no matter what I did I could never outmach  _him._ " Her voice was breaking. "After all these years, after all that happened, I still can't make you love me as much as you love him, no matter how shitty he treated you". 

I could not speak. My throat was clutched and my head was buzzing, I couldn't think of a proper answer. "The kids are on my parents' house. You'll get to visit them as much as you want, as long as I am not around" She bent to grab the bag. "Jamia I-" "Don't. Don't even bother, Frank. After the breakup, you stopped even _pretending_ that you care about me, about the kids." "That's a lie." My hands were forming fists on my sides and my jaw was clentched. I kept starring at my feet. "You know I always cared about you and the children. You are my fucking  _life_ , Jamia!" "No Frank, the band was your life. _He_ was your life. We were just extras in this fiesta you called a family. Have you even noticed what you've been acting like, the past three months? You're a fucking zombie, pacing from kitchen to living room. You stopped making music, you wouldn't even come to bed at night!"

She sighed and dropped the bag again, all anger was gone from her features now. "You have no idea how hard it was for me watching you fading away, day by day. It seemed you would disappear, turn into thin air, like you died along with the band. I thought we could make it through that too, it wouldn't be the first time the band was breaking up" I shot my head up, my face held an expression I had no control of. "I thought we could heal you, make you forget. The kids needed you, Frank. They watched you falling apart and kept wondering what did they do wrong. And you just didn't care." Great, another thing to feel guilty about. " We gave you time and all the support we had and you kept pushing us away. They, even  _I_  don't have the strength to do this. Frank, I'm sorry but this is for the best." She picked up her bag again.

"Baby, please. Don't do this." I felt as if I was drained of blood. Like my life force was drained and stored in that bag Jamia had in her hands. She shifted on the grip. "I didn't do this. You did." She walked towards me, heading for the door I was standind in front of. She stood there for a mere second.

"Goodbye, Frank." And like that she was gone.

*

I don't know how long it's been she left. The sun had almost set and I still was sitting there, starring at the empty space she left behind. I couldn't register what had happened. Ι couldn't let that sink in, I couldn't accept it. She didn't leave me, she can't - she  _loves me_. And I love her. She's my everything, the mother of my children, my one true love- 

This was all I could take. Losing the band was one thing, one painfull thing but I would get around it eventually, if she was here with me. I know it was unfair to her, but I explained my feelings towards him when we first got together.

She knew that Gerard was my best friend. He was my soulmate. I would do anything for him, be anything for him. I would bite off my left arm in a heartbeat and give it to him if he wanted to. Right now, I would give anything to have him back. Anything. I loved him.

But now, knowing that he deprived my most precious acuirement, the one thing I cared about as much as I did about him, hate was welling up inside me, filling my bones. I was vibrating with anger, my vision blurring at the edges. I let him destroy my family, tear my house apart, even with him absent. How could I let him do this? I'll tear him to motherfucking pieces.

Then, Jamia's words filled the thick silence pilling up in the room, inside my head. "You did this. This is all your fault. You let this happen, not her, not Gerard. _You._  You stopped caring, stopped trying. You weren't good enough. This is all  _your goddamned fault."_

The voice inside my head wouldn't stop now. It was loud and clear, ringing in my ears. "You didn't deserve the band or your family. You think that three months of self loathing and general hate towards the world would suffice? You are a useless prick that cares about no one but yourself. You are nothing, Frank. You hear me? _Nothing!_ "

"Stop! Stop, please, I beg you. Stop. I can't-" I pleaded while I collapsed to the floor. Sobs were violently working their way from my bones, through my intestants to my throat. I cried and cried, twitching and kicking on the floor. "I can't take this anymore, please, make it stop" I managed to say through my whimpers. "You know how to stop it, Frank. You know how to numb the pain. Put an end to it." 

"I- I will put an end." I slowly sat up, trying to hold on from the door knob and headed for the bathroom. "I will put an end".


	2. Chapter 2

I dragged my feet till I reached the bathroom door. I took a deep breath and twisted the knob, swinging the door open. The voice had tuned into a dull hum now, I could only make up the phrase 'be done with it'. I rummaged through the cabinets, I know I left them somewhere there so the girls wouldn't find them.  "Ugh, where are my fucking pil- shit! Ow!" My shaving foam fell right on my toe. This is spectacular. 

There it was, the cylindrical orange box I once so desperately tried to hide from my daughters. Fucking hell. My hands were trembling as I tried to open the Xanax container. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck._ Seriously, what kind of guitarist am I? I bit the cap and pulled. Shit, the pills were allover the floor. Fucking useless piece of shit. I gathered as many as I could find and shoved them in my mouth. I tried to swallow but they were stuck in my throat. I turned on the faucet and put my head underneath it, trying to take in as much water as possible. The dozen of beers I had in the fridge would be the cherry on top. A goodbye gift to myself. 

Then, I felt a firm grip by my hips start pulling me away.

"Frank? Frank! Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Frank! Can you hear me? How many pills did you take? Frank, answer me!" two hands dragged me towards the toilet seat and before I could make up an excuse for my mess, they pushed my head downwards. "James?" was all I could muster before his pointing and middle fingers were gagging me beyond belief. I felt the pills twisting in my throat and finally found their exit, from my mouth and on James' hand. "Fucking hell, Frank!" he murmered, after he was sure I had it all out of my system.

My hair was plastered on my forehead, my T-shirt was stained with puke and I smelled like a dump. "Fucking charming" I huffed on my reflexion in the mirror, making James laugh.  I narrowed my eyes at him "Shut up Dewees". Ι didn't know suicide attempts would be so exhausting. "Frank?" James had a deep frown carved between his eyebrows, he looked really concerned. "Yeah?" "Why did you do this? What happened? Who hurt you?" He was freaking out and I needed to stop him. "Okay, first things first. I need to clean myself. And a beer. Go downstairs, I'll catch you up in a minute. Okay?" I soothed him. 

I stripped off my clothes and immidiatelly threw them in the bin, I couldn't stand the odour or the sight of them. I stepped into the shower and just let the water running, hot and calming, through my pained body. The past hours were the most intence I had experienced my entire life. I replayed the scene inside my head trying to find this train of thoughts that led me to this desicion. It wasn't really hard to find though, the same thoughts were running through my head all the time. How the band had ended. How my family had abandoned me. How Gerard left me. All my fault. 

I quickly shook these images away and trying to focus on my breath, slow and steady. I needed to pull myself together. Just for now, for James to see that I'm okay and then I would proceed in my self destructing ride.

*

I entered the kitchen, heading for the fridge to grab a precious beer but I was soon stopped by James' forearm. "dude, don't drink now. Come, sit down." He dragged me against my weak protests towards the living room and sat me down on a couch, taking the opposite seat himself. "How are you, Frank?" "Fine, James." I lazily rubbed my eye "I just-" I didn't know how to finish the sentence. 

His eyes were piercing through me, searching for something even I could even find, waiting for an answer. 

"Jamia left" "And where did she go exactly?"Was he really that stupid or a giant asshole? "She left me, James. She took the kids and left" James shot me a questioning glare. "Leaving, as..  _leaving?_ Really? Dude, you're not serious! You were her Prince Charming in the white stallion or whatever, what the fuck did you do?" "Okay, first? Cut the shit with the princes and horses. Second? I don't fucking know! I don't know okay? I guess I was a dead weight she couldn't carry. She said she couldn't do this anymore. I guess I was a little off after the- you know." A heavy silence fell across the room. "I lost her, James. First him and now Jamia. I can't stand this, I can't, I can't-" Tears were welling from my eyes before I even knew. James darted towards me and burried me in his embrase. 

"Dude, what the fuck, I can't breathe!" I struggled under his arm after good 5 minutes, when I was out of breath. He carefully let go of me and sat me up strainght. "All better now, see?" The asshole always had a way to make me smile, with his fucking face and everything. "How the fuck did you get in anyway? When did you come to New Jersey?" I wiped the wet trail on my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. "Just this morning. I was at your door for 20 minutes motherfucker! I saw your whole dramatic brakdown, you went all Zadark in there, and then you went upstairs and I had to get in, you know?" "Yeah, I know.. Thanks, dude" "I hope a lost window won't hurt, ey?" "You fucking idjit, you broke a window? I had a key under the doormat! What a moron" we both shot our heads up in laugher.

I stretched as far as my limbs would reach. For a short guy, I could stretch like a motherfucker. A yawn followed. "I need some sleep I guess. I'll head upstairs, you clean the glasses!" "Oh, no way dude." Apparently, he had other plans, not involving brooming. You, are coming to my place, and you'll stay there until further notice. There's no way I'll leave you alone. Got it?"


	3. Chapter 3

My intended nap must've last much more than originally planned, as I woke up surrounded by pitch black darkness. I stumbled my way around the coffee table and stepped on what seemed to be Sweet Pea's tail, a weak cry came from underneath my foot. She was still here. The others though weren't. All of them gone. She took the dogs with her. She was gone, my children were gone and now the dogs. She could just kill me and get over with it as well. At least I had the poor old soul with me. My four legged beauty.

James shifted uncomfortably on the opposite couch, reminding me to shut the fuck up and let the man sleep. He was still here too. He didn't leave me. He was real. 

I had a hard time distinguishing what was real and what were fragments of my imagination, poor replays of memories inside my head. Cherry and Lilly running around, their laughter. Houdini going crazy, barking at the walls. Jamia standing by the doorframe with Miles in her arms, smiling. Αll of them attacking me, crushing me on the couch. I wouldn't fall without a fight though, I always tickled them till they'd collapse on top of me from laughter. It was all there. All gone. I threw it away. I suddently fell back in darkess. The room fell cold, like all life was drained from the world. Everything was dead. I was dead, a moving corpse. I should set myself on fire to see if I could feel any pain greater than the one swirlling inside my chest.

 This place is a tombstone, I need to get out. I stormed upstairs to the bathroom, my almost-crime-scene. I looked at the eyes of the broken reflection in the mirror. Bloodshot with two shady bruises underneath, no matter how much I'd slept just before. I splashed some water on my face and retreated to our- my room.

The bedroom was empty. Stripped of anything that reminded Jamia. Yet it was asphyxiating full with her. Ι had to hurry, take as much clothes as I could and get the fuck out off there before I jumped off the damned window. A couple of T-shirts and pairs of pants would do. After stuffing everything I needed in a bag, I went down the basement, where my long-forgotten home studio was. 

I hesitated for a second before entering the room. I hadn't been in there for almost half a year. Dust was dancing around before landing in various places, my computer, the amps, the bookcase, the pictures with family and friends. I run my hand across the frames, leaving a clean trace behind my fingers. I remember every single one of them. When they were taken, where and who took them. Polaroid snaps from our first tour, me annoying the shit out of Bob, Mikey trying to push away Ray's hair and-

My hand stopped and clutched at the last frame. It was him. Me and Gerard. Right after a show. His make up was smudged and had ran all the way down to his neck, his hair was a mess and his dark jeans were still up only by the power of will. A proper sweaty mess. His left hand was gripping my waist and on his right was a can of soda. He had only recently taken the decision to get clean and sobber, and it was hell. 

His face though, that was all worth it. He was  _there_. His eyes were sparkling and he smiled- tiredly, but it was his. He was happy. He knew were he was, what day it was, who he was with. He remembered the show, the croud and everything he did on stage, and off. "I remember that night." My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. No, not again, stop, you idiot.

I caressed the photograph and unwillingly focused on the glass. My broken face, another sad reflection of my remains. Another reminder of what he did to me. "Fuck you" Before I knew it, the frame flied across the room and shattered against the wall, under a big shattering noise. 

I ran towards the mess I created and retrieved the photograph, immidiatelly regreting what I did. "Why am I doing this to myself?" Ι folded it and put it in my back pocket. I stood up and grabbed my guitar. If I was to leave this place, even if I didn't even want to touch it now, I couldn't leave it alone here. Hell, I don't know anything anymore.

I went to my desk and rummaged through my stuff for picks. Something fuzzy came through my hands. "Shit, shit, SHIT!" I threw the fuzzy thing in the air and it landed on top of a paper pile. It wasn't a giant moth corpse. It was black and fuzzy, but knitted. It had a skeleton print spreading through its fingers until it violently stopped by the cut at the end of each.

It was the gloves Gerard gave me- well, one of them. I thought I lost them ages ago, when the studio was still in the making. I searched for the other one around the desk area, all sorts of papers flying around the room. "Where the fuck are you?" I pulled the desk from the wall and bent over it. A small black ball was hiding in the far right corner. I hoped it wasn't a moth corpse. "Ah- gotcha!" I almost fell from overstretching, but managed grapping it the last minute. Now I was complete. 

"Hey, dude, isn't it a bit early to start renovating? What the fuck are you even looking for back there?" a sleepy voiced James peeked behind me, staring at nothing. Fuck, I forgot he was sleeping, I made a shitload of noise. "Nothing. Dude, get off of me!" I pushed him away and he fell liflessly on the side. The whole place was wrecked. "What time is it?" "I don't know, sun is up though". Great. "I packed my stuff. If you've finished cleaning the mess you made upstairs, we're good to go." "Hey, I see you've made a mess yourself, Princess. Clean yours and I'll clean mine." "Fine, asshole. I'll clean up." God this man is lazy.

"Blew some steam off?" He asked, pointing at the broken frame. I shrugged. "Whatever, just- don't kill yourself."  He rushed up the stairs. James knew how to hide his concern behind the tiniest of frowns. 

I put the guitar and picks in a case and unpinned my skateboard from the wall. Always a backup plan.

"I won't." Not yet.


	4. Chapter 4

James' place was bigger than I remembered. He kept the house even though he was living in Los Angeles. Τhe band was history, so he had no reason at all to come back here for rehearsals and recordings or anything. I haven't been here in years.

"Leave your stuff over there, I'll get them later" he mumbled as he rushed to the kitchen. We were both wrecked after last night's incident and some decent coffee would be fucking ideal right now.

I let my self wander around the place, messing and touching stuff. I could hear him moving around the room, making all sorts of noises. Cabinets slamming, glasses clinking and the soft groan of the coffee machine, followed by the all familiar smell.

I dragged myself towards the living room, waiting for my caffeine fix as I played with a peculiar skull shaped ashtray. James appeared from the door frame holding two mugs. I felt like a kid on fucking Christmas morning. I dropped the ashtray on the coffee table. "Gimme" I snatched the mug from his hands, almost spilling the contains all over him. I gulped down almost half of it, hoping the warmth of the delicious coffee would calm me down but I only managed to burn my insides.

"Dude, it's all yours, relax, it won't run away or anything" he sat on a couch, motioning me to join him. I couldn't follow though, I was all over the place. I could hear the blood pumping through my ears, my head buzzing. "Nah, I'm fine here."

He brought the mug to his lips "so, what are you thinking of doing now?" "Huh? I-" My guards were off, I didn't expect him to get so much to the point, I've been avoiding making such questions to myself. "I don't know, dude. Just- I think I'll wait for her to reach me somehow." There's not much I could do anyway, I don't know what she wants or if she's coming back, if I was aware of it I'd give it to her right away, anything..

Then last night hit me. "Did you tell anyone about last night? Called someone?" James eyed me for a long good moment. "No? But I could call someone if-" "No no no no. No one must know about this, _no one_. Please, you have to keep this between us" I had already too much to deal with, people's pity was the last thing I needed at the moment. And I didn't want Jamia or anyone else think they're responsible for my severe case of self loathing.

"Ok, ok, I won't tell anyone-" "Thank you, James." He raised his palm to silence me,obviously tired of being constantly interrupted. "As long as you promise you won't try anything stupid. I'm not here to save your sorry ass every five fucking minutes, got it?" "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me, I'm super solid, not killing myself. Look!" I grinned as much as I could, skin stretched towards my ears, showing off all of my teeth at him. "Happy as fuck!" "You suck so hard, Frank Iero." Νο shit, Sherlock. "Ok, let's get you to your room."

 

 

 

 

 

*

"You'll be staying here with me until I get back to LA, which is in five weeks. It's got everything you'll need, separate bathroom and it's quiet enough, so I guess you'll be fine. " he dropped my bags to the floor as I left my skateboard on the bed. "Dude, how many years has it been since you last used that shit?" He asked, pointing towards the beaten up board a few inches away from him. "Last time I saw you riding you were an infant or something." I made a fake-hurt face. "Piss off Dewes, I'm a fucking youngster. And no, I still ride it from time to time, when I want to clear my mind." Or have a deathwish. "Yeah whatever, just don't break a hip trying to balance on that bitch, Grandpa." I flipped him off.

"I'll be gone for the rest of the day, I have to go check up some amps for the studio. If you're hungry, order something cause there's nothing edible in here. I'll have to go shopping tomorrow" He shifted on his heels, peering at me through some strands of hair. "Dude. Go, I'll be okay. Honestly". "Sure?" He didn't even try to hide his discomfort and guilt for leaving me alone, his face mirrored one of an irresponsible parent, dealing with the consequences of his abandoned, hurt child. "Sure. I'm not five, I can take care of myself." He sighed and left the room.  
  
"I might go out later, don't freak out if you don't find me here when you get back." I shouted behind him. He came back to the room just to give me the are-you-even-serious look. "What?" He lifted a finger "I'm not gonna even bother myself with you." Jesus Christ this man can get from genuinely concerned to completely insufferable in three seconds"Get the fuck out drama queen, you got shit to do" I shooed him out of the room. "Fucking nut job" I heard him saying under his breath followed by a slam on the front door a few seconds later.

The silence was comforting. I felt all the restlessness backing away, leaving me with nothing but an insane need to sleep. I hadn't fully recovered after last night's scene, my throat was still sore and I felt extremely tired. There goes my plan for a walk to the skatepark I spotted on our way here. Fuck it. I moved the board from the bed to the side of the desk and jumped right on it. A crinkly noise from my back pocket got my full attention. I stuck my hand in and retrieved the folded and slightly crumpled piece of paper I put earlier that day. I almost forgot about that.

  
Our never fading smiles and happy faces starring back at me irritated me beyond words. I didn't want to remember anymore. I didn't want to hurt. Yet, the memories of that night filled my head despite my pathetic efforts against it.

 

_September 30th, London UK_

 

"That was insane!" Ray exclaimed between gulps of his water, with hair a glorious mess sticking to his face, obviously too excited to give a fuck about his condition. "The crowd was crazy, dude" Mikey said, praying behind me, snatching the towel from my neck. "Hey what- give it back, moron!" I put my arms around him -as much as I could- trying to re-obtain my favourite towel. He raised it as high as he could (fucking tall bastard) and twisted it around "you know he loves your stuff dude, specially the towels" Ray acknowledged, watching from a far, sprawled on the couch in our dressing room. "Yeah, cause I'm the only one who actually washes that shit. Give it back, you ass!" I jumped and pulled down, bringing Mikey along. "But it's so _sooooft_!" He dragged the word, accompanied by a pout.

"Totally your fault." Ray continued "I mean, look at Gerard" he said, motioning with the water bottle towards the silent figure, leaning on the door frame beside him "no one wants to touch _his_ stuff, and I bet you it's not 'cause they respect his personal space." "Hey, fuck you!" he snapped and threw his towel on Ray's face. "Ew! Dude, no! Bio-hazard! Get it away from me!" he cried as he threw the wrecked towel to the floor. "The only use for that shit is as a lethal weapon!" "Then explain why you're still alive" Gerared spat, clearly unamused. He wasn't so much his cheery depressed-as-hell-but-totally-going-with-it self, not anymore. Being clean and sober for over a month now made the world a heavy burden on his shoulders. He missed the blur, the lack of remorse, how easily he could let go of things, of himself.

  
Our laughs were uncontainable by then, Mikey and I grabbing each others shoulders for support, towel forgotten, hanging on my neck. "Will you motherfuckers shut up?" Bob peeked his head from the door, "I could hear you from across the street!" "Where the fuck have you been?" Ray asked, raising an eyebrow. "Loading my shit in the van, I want to get on with it and fucking _sleep_." "Yeah, don't we all?" Screacher grabbed a beer off the coffee table as he walked around the room.

"I heard we have actual fucking hotel rooms tonight" Ray sounded relieved "My back is fucking killing me". "Yeah, only cause you're such a whinny old grandma" Mikey shot, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'll show you grandma" Ray practically _darted_ off the couch "I'll take you down, fuckwit" and that he did, tackling him to the floor, his hair hiding most of the action, when a bright light filled the room momentarily, making our heads spin towards the source of it. "That's too precious to let slip" Brian laughed, holding his camera on his hand. "Hey, girls, break it, come on" Bob tried to pull Ray off of the now broken Mikey. They were both standing up, dusting themselves off as they laughed at each others mess.

"Hey, gather round. Let's take a picture!" Brian suggested cheerfully. "Fuck yes" Ray was all in for it, especially Brian's polaroid snapshots, he had a whole album of them. "Hell no" Bob frowned and backed away towards the door, he was never a fan of them. "Too late bitch" I grabbed his arm and pulled him back in "I'm not going through this alone" I whispered to his ear as I lined up next to him.

  
"Hey I- just let me-- I go there" Gerard mumbled, as he pushed himself between us. Bob let him, of course, it didn't matter anyways, it was just a picture to him. "Everyone ready?" Brian brought the camera to his face. Gerard slipped his free hand around my waist, holding on to the fabric of my shirt for dear life, crushing me to his side and suddenly I forgot how to breathe. "Smile!" Τhey didn't need Brian to tell them so, adrenaline and alcohol was pumping in all of our veins -but Gerard's-, and we automatically wore our dorkiest grins.

Flash.

"Okay, we're done. Get your things, we're leaving."

Gerard grabbed my hand and stormed out the door. I looked up at him, his face was free of make up now, a frown carved between his eyebrows, like he was in deep thought.  "I got everything I need".

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating frequently, I've been buzy catching up with some TV series I wanted to watch for far too long. Please let me know if you find any mistakes in that, I didn't have time to edit it (I'm terrible I know:/)

"Gerard, what the fuck?" I shot my arms up in exasperation as I watched him pacing back and forth in the crappy motel room.  I spent the entire way here pinned to his side on the back of the bus, away from everyone, getting the silent treatment whenever I demanded some sort of explanation from him.

"What is this shit, what did I do to you?" I was practically yelling at that point, pissed off by the lack of attention from his part.  He looked frantic, hair allover the place, clothes fucked up and damp from sweat, erratic breathing. He seemed high on something, but he was sober nonetheless, and still not acknowledging my existance.

He stopped dead on his tracks, stared at me for good 10 seconds before start pacing again.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Hand pulling at his hair. Back and forth. One more stop. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Again and again. He was driving me insane.

"Gerard! Stop!" He didn't notice me moving up to his face to stop him, he blinked twice and then stared, dazed.  The "what the fuck is wrong with you" I tried to spit out at him, came out like a small "did I do something?" as I saw his face falling into a misarable one. He was so anxious, like he was going to have a heart attack any minute now. I took his hand and sat him at the bed, then followed beside him.

"Gerard, look at me. What's wrong?" I put my hand under his chin and raised it slowly until his eyes met mine. I ingnored my stomach tying itself in knots and went on. "What's bothering you? You've been like this since last month, is it something that I did? Please don't shut me out, I hate seeing you like this." We were so close I could feel his breath hot on my face.

"I-" His voice came out barely as a whisper. "I don't know what to do. Frank, I-" His eyes were huge and glistening under the dim light of the room. He closed the distance between us and his lips met mine. 

It wasn't the same. It wasn't like anytime he walked up on me on stage and pulled some act, grabbing my hair and sticking his tongue in my mouth just for the hell of it. It wasn't like anytime he was so high he couldn't tell if it was me or Cat. It wasn't drunken and sloppy. It wasn't like Jamia's kisses too. This was different. It was warm and soft and intimate. And I wanted it.

Frank, you idiot,  _stop!_ _  
_

 _  
_I pulled back and fell to the floor, kicking away from him. "No, no, no, this shouldn't have happened. No, this is so wrong, Gerard, why did you do this?" My voice broke. "Frank, I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I tried to stop- you have to listen to me!" He looked desperate and afraid, his eyebrows shot up on his forehead and his hands were held up in a defensive gesture.

"No, Gerard, you don't understand, this is different! We are not on stage and you are sober and you're confusing me!" I was out of breath and standing right in front of him by then.

A small smile appeared on his face. "What?" He looked so fucking happy, like he won the lottary or some shit. "Gerard, what the fuck is it?!" "I thought you were so in love with Jamia, you'd never see me like I see you." He looked at his feet and bit his lip.

"You think this is a fucking game?" I couldn't believe what he was saying. "Does it look like a game to you?" he sounded so offended but happy and teasing at the same time, I wanted to punch his brains out.

 

I clasped his arms and pinned him in place. "Ever since I met you, I've tried so hard to stay away from you. You were you and you were out of reach and we were both so fucked up and you were screwing up everyone else around you, I had to keep my distance-" "I didn't fuck anyone up!" He shot back in anger. "Oh yeah? Tell that to fucking Bert! You used him and you threw him away like he was fucking nothing! He was your friend and he loved you, but you didn't care!"

"It wasn't like that," he murmured, looking down again, "I didn't love him. Not like I love you." 

I stumbled back and away from him. I felt electrocuted, my ears ringing, I couldn't process what I just heard. My stomach did that loop thing again when I tried talking "You.. love me?" It was barely audible but from his expression and the small nod after it,  I figured he listened. I hovered there there for a minute, the silence between us getting heavy. He was looking at me with expecting eyes under locks of hair, yet I was pinned to the floor.

"Forget it, this was a mistake" he started walking away towards the door. He was walking away from me. I grabbed his arm as he was passing by me and spun him around. 

"Ι don't deserve this." He looked at me confused, hazel orbs peering their way inside me, urging me to carry on. "I've been in love with you since the moment I first saw you. You were drunk and reckless and beautiful. You looked so fragile, like the smallest gush of wind could bring you down, tear your apart and take you away from me. You were broken and I wanted to be there for you, I wanted to fix you. I stayed close, watched you fall and rise and fall again, I was there and helped you through everything shitty that came on your way. I was there to pick up the pieces. I watched you playing with other people's feelings, taking advantage of every affection they had for you. I love you, Gerard. But I don't deserve this." 

Gerard froze in place, his jaw was hanging and his eyes grew big. 

My hands slowly fell from his shoulders to my sides. I felt myself shrinking, every feeling that I'd stored inside me for years oozed out of my pores, leaving me empty. I felt every bone of my body break under the weight of his gaze, each breath of his was a blow on my chest. 

"Say something!" I pleaded. I couldn't stand the silence anymore. My brain was screaming at me to flee, but my legs wouldn't listen. My vision blurred by tears that overwhelmed me. I slowly closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable rejection. 

Instead, I felt his body pressing against mine in a crushing imbrace. "I know" he mustered as his lips found mine. He wrapped his hands around my neck and deepened the kiss, his tongue licking my lower lip. I struggled for air but I didn't want to let go. "I hate seeing you crying, and I'm the one to blame". He dragged his lips towards my cheeks, kissing the tears away and downwards to my neck, planting kisses on every inch of bear skin, hovering over my scorpion tattoo.

"Every time I got drunk" he breathed on the hollow of my collarbone, sending electric empulses allover my body "and slept with Cat, I pretended she was you. I wanted it to be you, so, so fucking bad" he gasped as my hands traveled under his filthy t-shirt. "Sometimes I thought you weren't real, just a fragment of my imagination. Something my brain created to keep my from jumping off a building" he was pulling at the hem of my t-shirt and biting slowly at my shoulder. "I was mad I couldn't have you. I could have anyone but you."

"You never- ah!- said anything!" My rapidly growing erection was making me uncomfortable in my tight jeans. I rubbed my crotch on his thigh for some friction. " I was afraid I would scare you off" he mouthed on the throbing spot on my shoulder, drawing a rough moan from me.

"All these years, my only way to show you how- uh take it off!" He pulled at the hem of my shirt so much a ripping noise came out. I didn't care, I wanted him to touch me, my skin ached for him. As soon as I pulled the t-shirt off of my head, his hands found their way to my torso and his lips to the same spot on my shoulder. "The only way to show you how I felt was on stage. It was just an act for everyone else, but not for me. I never acted." 

We stumbled backwards to the bed, his body pressing mine against the matress. He reached for the zipper of my pants and opened quickly, then pulled them down along with my boxers with one swift motion, uncovering my raging boner. He stood a bit straigter and took his time to scan my body with his eyes, bitting his thumb nail. Ι ignored the urge to cover myself and stared back at him. "So beautiful" he mouthed over his hand, then lowered his body, just inches above mine.

"The thought of not being able to touch you like that" his hand traced my chest, down to my belly, stopping inches away from my crotch, making my cock twitch from the lack of attention "was driving me insane. Ι didn't know what to do with myself." His hand moved down again, ever so slow, grabbing my shaft, then stroke it slowly.

"you've been jerking off to me?" I moaned as he stadily sped up the pace. "All the time." He smiled and hid his blushing face on my neck, finding the soft spot behind my ear and biting it, making me sigh. 

"Please- let me just.." I pulled at the hem of his t-shirt, helping him take it off "I want to see you. I want to touch you". He let go of me and I whined in protest, as he unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers, slipping them down, with his underwear. 

The fading light was making his skin look even paler than it really was. His hair was sticking out to all directions and the bright red of his face creept down to his throat and chest. His eyes were wild; pupils blown, framed by heavy eyelids. A grin spreading over his face, looking at me like he would eat me alive.

He climbed on top of me, his body plastered on mine, every inch of our skin touching, sending electric bolts through my spine.  "I want you so bad" we kissed roughly and passionately, his hand traveled towards my dick again, stroking faster this time. I knew I wouldn't last long in that pace. "Gerard, I- ah,  _fuck!_ " His hand backed away to my hip and round to cup my ass. "Frank, I want to feel you. Please, just let me-" "anything you want". I could rip my heart and hand it to him without blinking. 

He pulled back and stared at me. "Backpack" I said and pointed at the discarded bag on the floor. I knew what he was asking of me without even verbalizing his thoughts. He jolted up and reached for the bag, ramaging it until he found what he was looking for. He came back holding condom and lube. 

I was a bit stressed cause I've never actually done this before. I got off with boys before,  but not this far, and never bottoming. "Frank, I can hear you thinking, relax. I won't hurt you. If you feel uncomfortable or like you can't take it, you tell me and we stop right there, okay?" I nodded and he kissed my forehead. He unwrapped the foil and rolled the condom on him.

"We'll take it slow, don't worry. All you have to do is tell me and I'll pull out." He popped the lube open and slicked his fingers with it. He lowered his torso and pushed his left hand on the matress so he could kiss me without putting his whole body weight on me. The cool air between us raised goosebumps allover my body. "Ready?" I nodded and I felt his finger pushing its way through my entrance. I squeezed my eyes shut and shot my head back. It was a weird feeling, mixed pain and plessure. Just enough to keep me from kicking him off the bed.

"Baby," he mouthed between bruising kisses "you need to relax, otherwise it's gonna hurt like hell." "I try to" I hissed in his mouth. "Wait, did you just call me- _fuckin hell!_ " his second finger penetrating me destracted me from acknowedging his shown affection towards me. "You should've at least warn me" "you wouldn't stop talking" he teased. "Oh, shut up" I bit his lower lip and dragged him down, closer to me. The stinging on my hole backed way after a few minutes, leaving a low burning sensation that sent waves of pleasure allover me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and started riding his fingers.

A few involuntary moans escaped my lips, sending vibrations on Gerard's tongue and down his throat. He pulled his fingers out, causing me to whimper from the sudden emptiness. He chuckled on my shoulder as he tried to get himself up. He looked up at me, asking for permition to continue with his eyes. I shook my head in agreement and let out a long breath I was holding for too long, as he lined himself up on my entrance.

He pushed inside me slowly, watching my face for any trace of discomfort. He stood still once he was all inside me, giving me a moment to adjust, because yeah, fucking huge. "Are you okay?" He asked while pushing hair out of my face, searching for my eyes. He looked genuinely worried, scared of the thought he might hurt me.

His eyes were full of things, emotions I've never thought Gerard was capable of- or let himself feel. His face was a mere reflection of my own, flushed and grinning, happy. I loved him and he knew it. He loved me back. That was all I cared about.

He started moving again, setting a slow pace. "Gerard, please stop torturing me!" I groaned to his ear, the pace to slow for my liking. "Oh, so we like it now, hun?" he teased, his lopsided smile never failing to make my stomach drop. "I'm not complaining" I teased back, faking nonchalant. "Okay then" he pulled completely off of me then thrusted his whole length inside me, making me hiss loudly.  "Sorry" he kissed the now bruised spot on my shoulder. He looked up at me to make sure I was okay and carried on, picking up the pace. 

He dragged his fingers down my chest, leaving red trails behind as he reached down to my cock, strocking in the same pace. His other hand gave in and he collapsed on top of me. With one big rock of my hips I rolled over so I was riding him, steading myself with a hand on Gerard's chest. He grabbed me again, one hand on my hips, the other jerking me off. I bit down most of my moans and screams into incoherent mummbling. 

"Lean back a little bit more, like this" his right hand pushed me backwords while he thrusted full force inside me, hitting that sweet spot that made my stomach clentch. I bit down another moan and sighed as heavily as I could, feeling my orgasm getting close. 

"Frank, I want to hear you scream for me, come on, don't hush yourself". He thrusted once more, hitting the same spot perfectly, drawing the loudest moan I had from my lungs. He pounded relentlessly in me, bringing me closer to the edge. "Gerard- fuck! I can't hold on much longer" "Don't hold back, Frank. Come for me."

My orgasm hit me in waves as I came undone under his hands, screaming his name. He followed shortly after, breath cought up in his throat, letting a string of cursing flow from his mouth. He pulled out of me and I collapsed on top of him.

We lied there, limps tangled, in a post-orgasmic bliss. He played with strands of my hair while I traced shapes on his chest, stealing a few kisses here and there. I didn't want to think about tomorrow, or the consequenses of what we did. All that mattered was him.

After what seemed like an iternity, I shooed him out of the bed to clean up after himself. We showered in turns, he went in first, after I practically kicked his way to the shower. Without Gerard bashing my brain with being in sight with no clothes on, fear creept on the back of my head. After 10 excruciating minutes I decided I didn't give a shit. 

The sight of a damp Gerard, towel hanging low on his waist and another rubbing his raven hair with, was one of the hottest things I've ever witnessed. "You better put something on or I can't guarantee I'll keep my hands off" I prayed closer to him. "Who says I want you to?" He grabbed my arm and pull me close to him, kissing me with all he had. "No, shower-  _hmphmpmh_ " he drowned my voice under another bruissing kiss, making my cock hard all the way. He pulled away and slapped my ass as he pushed me into the bathroom. "Shower!" He laughed as he reached for his boxers. "I hate you so much" I said under my breath, causing giggles from the other side of the door.

When I came out of the bathroom, Gerard was fully clothed and sitting on the edge of the bed, a small frown carved between his eyebrows. "What's going on?" I asked worried. "I have to go, Frank. I've been thinking-" "What? Why? It's not the first time we sleep in each other's rooms, why leave now?" I spoke in hurry, afraid he might walk out the room in a second, leaving me behind. "Stay." My gaze fell to stare at my feet. "Please?" He sighed and slowly stood up. He was leaving, I was losing him. I knew it was going to happen but I couldn't stop myself. He was always leaving. I couldn't bare the sight of him walking away from me.

His shadow, coming closer instead of fading away, made me lift my head to find him inches away from me. He pulled me into his arms and crushed me under his embrace. "I'll stay." His voice soft in my ear. "I spent way too much time away from you. I won't leave you again. "

"Promise?"

"I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

"Frank, you really need to wake up". James took another drag of his cigarette and left on the ashtray. "What makes you think I'm not awake?" I played with a strand of my now long hair, avoiding his suddenly too annoying face. I need a haircut."I don't know dude, you tell me. You're locked up in your room all day, doing, well, nothing and when it gets dark, you go out with that fucking skateboard. Are you fucking kidding me? On a place like this? You have a goddamn deathwish?" Well, yes, considering the fact that you found me half dead on my bathroom floor, I do have one of those. "Αnd you don't even take Sweet Pea for a walk, she pisses all around my house." he finished, looking sadly at the stained corner of the carpet, by the entrance. It became her spot.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" I chuckled at the second part of his rant. "I can hear you pacing back and forth", he slightly knocked on the wall he was leaning. "Paper thin". I shifted uncomfortably on the coutch I was sprawled on. "Great, you're spying on me now, Deewes?" I felt like I moved back to my mum's place. "Seriously, dude. I'm old enough to take care of myself, I don't need parental control." I stated before I grabbed the abandoned cigarette and took a drag.

"I'm not fucking spying on you!" he snapped. "It's the only way to make sure you're still alive! You're always locking yourself up in there, and I hardly get a word from you when you decide to leave that shithole of a room." He slowly exhailed to calm himself down, realizing I couldn't possibly care less about his emotional outburst. He tried a different approach then. "I never get to see you. I'm here for work which makes things hard by itself, okay, but that doesn't mean you'll have to avoid me every fucking second of the fucking day! That's a shitty way to deal with everything."

I broke my staring contest with the wall and raised my eyes to meet his. "You know, the whole 'worried mum' look doesn't suit you very much. Plus, you swear like a sailor" I pushed myself up a bit to smash the butt of the cigarette on the tray. " You're busy and I have way too much time I have to kill somehow. Relax."

"You wouldn't have to if you worked on something new" he tried. "You're an unhappy little shit when you're sitting on your fat ass instead of doing something, whatever that is." I cupped my butt, clearly offended by his statement. It was not fat, okay? "Sorry to brake it to you James, but last time I checked I didn't have a band." I rested my chin at my chest "I have nothing to return to." "You don't have to return to anything, you can try something new!" His hands were flying around in a lame attempt to get my attention. "We could do something together. Something the world is not prepared to hear or see. You can come to LA with me, start over. It would be great!" 

 

The mere thought of making something new with James warmed me up inside, ideas popped in my head, my brain was set to full productive mode. I smiled faintly, but all the nice feelings died out with it as soon as I realized I didn't have a family or friends to show it to. "James, I'm sorry but I can't." His face fell. "But whyyyy?" he stomped his foot, imitating a 5-year-old girl. "Because, sweetheart," I crossed my ankles "I don't fucking want to. Now go out and play or something." "When you quit being an enormous dick, come find me in the studio."

 

 

He started walking out of the room, when he froze dead on his tracks. "I.. almost forgot. Something came in for you this morning. The courier said he couldn't find you home so they were given this address. I don't know how they found you." He disappeared for a moment and came back holding a big folder.

 

I checked the address, it was some random lawyer office. I hesitantly opened it and scanned through the papers. It was my divorce file. All terms and conditions were made a few days ago, my lawyer contacted hers and they made arrangements. "Give her everything she asks" that was my only 'demand' on this matter. Apparently, she asked for way too many things.

 

I didn't care if I'd be broke after this, I would give anything for the well being of my family. I signed the papers and dropped them on the coffee table. James picked them up and read them carefully, hand absently rubbing at his chin. "Wow, that's a lot of shit. Are you willing of giving all these up? I mean, you share custody and everything, but that's a lot of money. And the house too? It's not candy, you know." "Yeah dude, I know. I also know that she worked as hard as I did to make all that, so I am more than willing to give them up. On top of that, she has the main part of raising three children the best way she can, and I want to help with that as much as she lets me. So yes, I am willing to give everything up for their sake. Besides I'm keeping all the gear from the home studio. I was living with far less for years, it's not a problem for me."

 

I didn't realize I was standing up by that time. I slowly sank back down on the couch. He came around the table and sat beside me "She's not coming back, is she?" I put my face in my hands and sighed. "No man, she's not."

My body jerked as I darted up and left the room practically running. "Hey, where are you going now?" I must of had been fucking his brain stem so hard all this time. I came back a few moments later, holding a leash. "I'm taking Sweet Pea for a walk." "what? Are you fucking kidding me?" What the fuck did I do wrong? "Aren't you happy your rants are getting into me? Jesus Christ man, get a grip of yourself!"I left the room with him patting his pockets, in search of his cigarette pack. "Fucking asshole."

The door behind me slammed shut and the cool night breeze caressed my face, clearing every troubled thought from my head. "Come on, old lady" I put Sweet Pea's leash on and started walking down the poorly lit street, taking the familiar route towards the skate park. At this time, I was hoping for something more interesting than adolescent dickbags with skates.


	7. Chapter 7

Five shady dudes and a shitload of shinny black jeeps with rap music spilling out of them in an ear-bleeding volume later, I managed to reach the beaten up skate park. 

It wasn't a big deal. A couple of funboxes, 2 quarter pipes, one acompanied by a vert wall and some Jersey barriers. The whole place was wrecked, the fences were almost torn down and the trees around it were long dead. 

"Here sweetie, knock yourself out." I unleashed Sweet Pea and she made a few hesidant steps sniffing around, before getting off completely. I leaned against the poorly supported fence and dug my hands in my pockets, looking for my Lucky Strike and lighter. 

After a couple of tries, the old zippo gave in and lit my cigarette. I pushed it between my lips and traced the carved metal with my thumb, two swallows on each side of it, a fading "forever" at the top of the lid. My free hand instinctively traveled down to my hips, under my hoodie and traced the inked skin with the matching birds.

I sighed and smoothed back the layers of clothing, then started toying with the lighter's flame. I should throw that thing at some point, a regular lighter would do just fine. He wouldn't care if I had it eitherways. He stopped caring about me and everything I do a lot time ago.

My self loathing session was interrupted by some obnoxious laughter coming from the other side of the park. 

"If you two won't stop laughing right now, I'm gonna stake you with the bike frame." A feminine but slightly intimidating voice echoed. "But considering the fact I'm hanging out with two of the biggest faggots in the planet, that wouldn't seem so bad to you" she finished.

"But you know we're right. You haven't get laid since the Dark Ages," one male voice replied between loud laughs. "And this poor thing's been coming back to the store just so he can stare at you, until the boss kick him out, so you _have_ to give him your number at least" another voice colourfully filled in.

Eventually, they came out of the shadows. Two guys, one tall and build up like a brick shithouse, apparently strong enough to take down an entire army. The other was slightly shorter and more lanky, the dim light softened the edges of his bony, smiling face. Both of them were carrying huge backpacks, a board sticking out of each.

The were accompanied by a pettite, shady figure. She wore a black "Night of the Living Dead" hoodie with the hood pulled up, covering almost all of her face, baggy jeans and torn black Vans. She was pushing a beaten up BMX, covered in mud and rust. Underneath those layers of filth, stickers were peaking up. Minor Threat, Pink Floyd, Television, Of Mice & Men, Suicide Silence, Nirvana and Iron Maiden were somewhat distinctive. This girl had some fucked up taste in music. 

She turned to face the big guy "I expected this kind of shit from Patrick, but not from you, Stephan." she grunted, poking him in the forearm with her index. "I don't fucking care if he bought every Arctic Monkeys album to impress me, I don't care if he comes _every_   Friday night because he knows it's my night shift and I don't care how many hours he spends staring at me from the comics section. _He's fucking sixteen and he's fucking creepy._  It's more gross than words can tell. It crosses the line, even for me."

The pair threw their heads back in laughter, searching for support on eachother's side. She glared at them until their giggles died out."Are you two idjits done laughing at my pathetic sex life?" They stopped in front of the vert wall and threw their bags on the ground, then sat on top of them, close to eachother. 

"We're not laughing at your sex life, Alex, we're laughing at the lack of it." Stephan mocked. "Hey, let her be, it's not like she needs your shit right now." Patrick eased him, ignoring his learing. " You have to listen to us though. Your life revolves around your job, your guitar, Game of Thrones and Jinx." He gazed at her for a second, before dropping his head down. "How old is that cat anyway?" He asked, kicking the asphalt inattentively. "You need to get out more, you're 24 for fuck's sake!" 

Alex pulled down her hoodie, revealing her pale face. I crushed my forgotten cigarette under the heel of my boot and leaned closer to get a better look. The light and the black locks of hair right in front of her face wasn't helping me study her like the others, but I could make out her eyes. Those hazel huge orbs and the slightly pinched eyebrows, taking too much space. Looking like they've seen too much and nothing at all. Always interested but dismissive. Masked dissapointment under an exited 5-year-old look.

I've seen that look before, in him.

"Okay, guys? This needs to stop. We're not having this conversation here. Actually, we're not having this conversation at all. I'm pretty happy with my books and music and Game of Thrones. I don't need anything else to be complete, I'm fine on my own thank you very much, you can find someone else to play worried mum over. You can adopt a kid or something. And Jinx is turning 10 this March." She finished breathlessly, clenching on her bike. 

She sucked on air and held it for a couple of seconds before letting it out, attempting to calm herself down. She let her bike rest against the wall and leaned next to it, slowly dragging herself down, until she was sitting on the ciment, between the pair.

"You know how much I love you both and I appreciate your interest in my well being, but I really like it that way." She stretched her legs, tapping her shoes together. "But you two pains are the only thing I need." She faintly smiled at them.

"That, and Supernatural marathons at 3am" Stephan added, earning an impressive punch in the stomach by Alex. "Your temper is shorter than you are" he coughed out, ducking to avoid a slap from her.

"They called from the garage this morning" Patrick pushed himself in between to split them, "they said your car is ready and that you could go get it first thing tomorrow." The girl's face lit up. "Realy?! At fucking last! They had it in since forever! I'm dired of this little bitch." She bobbed her head towards her bike.

"You're the only person that could be happy by getting that bucket back" the big guy murmored and got his head smacked by the small one, making him hit his brought up to the chest knees.

"I'll stick the bike seat so far up your ass, you'll choke on it" Alex growled. "Sounds tempting" Stephan mocked, making her jump on him, pinning him down flat on his back, unable to move. Patrick seemed to enjoy the spectacle for a moment, before lifting her off of him.

The sight of those three was so intriguing that made me forget all about Sweet Pea, who was trying to get my attention by chewing at my shoelace. "Are you done there, old thing? C' on, let's go. I need some sleep." I put on her leash and began to walked out of the forsaken park.

"There goes our audience" Stephan noticed as soon as he got his back straigth up. Patrick worriedly whispered something along the lines of "dangerous" and "junky", to which the girl responded "sure, he came to deal his fix along with the poodle, ey?" and turned towards me, searching me with her inquisitive gaze, making me feel uneasy. Maybe she recognized me.

I shook that thought away as quickly as it came and turned my back on them, leaving this place in a much better state than I was this morning.

 

 

 

 

 

*

James' loud snoring welcomed me home, his sprawled body on the coutch was the same as any time he waited me to come back from my nights out drinking myself to death, attempting to break my back on that skateboard, or trying to get someone else to kill me. The spit running down his chin was an occasional extra. 

"Hey. Hey, Dewees, wake up. Come on, princess, get up." I shook his soulder gently. "Come on, man, I'm not carrying you to bed". He cracked one eye open "what time is it", his voice was flat and rough. " Half past midnight. Come onnn" I dragged his arm until he fell of the coutch. "Dude! Not cool! Get me up! Ugh." He shakingly got up and rubbed his eye.He stared at me in disbelief for a couple of seconds. "You've come home early."  "Yeah, you want me to go back out?" I pointed at the door. "No, no! It's fine! Totally fine!" he hurried, raising his hands up to stop me, as if I was going to run away.

He looked around the dark room before setting his eyes on me again, letting out a long breath. "I'm going to bed. G'night" 

"See you tomorrow, James" I said and headed towards my room, longing for my bed. I don't remember the last time I wilingly went to sleep and didn't pass out in some alley. I don't remember the last time I was sober this long.

I fell asleep the minute my head touched the pillow. No one haunted my dreams that night.


End file.
